


To Touch (& Sketch)

by orphan_account



Category: VIXX
Genre: M/M, can you believe floppy taekwoon tops, hyuk is a bottom, me neither but here we are, this is gonna be a two-chapter thing hhdhskdf
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 04:56:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15744717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “And…” Taekwoon starts, voice soft, “I want you to touch me.” He caresses Sanghyuk’s forearm gently, the tips of his fingers brushing past his skin in slight wisps. “I know you’ve been staring from the very start,” the elder adds, “From the changing room sofas.”He's right.





	To Touch (& Sketch)

**Author's Note:**

> i think i have a thing for hyuk bottoming aaaaaaaa  
> this will be a two-chaptered piece!! (it's just a long pwp tbh) 
> 
> thank you so much for giving this a chance! <3

Taekwoon’s hands are shaking, Sanghyuk can feel it— the slight tremble of those fingers that lingered on his wrists.  
 ****

“Hyung,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. His lips are dry, and so is his throat. He’s staring too much at silky bits of Taekwoon’s shirt, where the buttons meet and his collarbones protrude delicately under the base of his neck. 

Taekwoon doesn’t answer, instead, leads him deeper into the walk-in closet. They stop in front of a rack of robe-like jackets, Sanghyuk can vaguely make out the outline of that one watermelon coat Taekwoon had on back in Dynamite Era. He parts his lips for another question, but he quickly silences himself when he sees the elder push the clothes apart and disappear through the cloaks. 

_…you can do that_? 

He follows suit, ducking and crawling away. Indeed, there’s a little secluded space behind the garments, most likely made for storage, but there’s nothing there at the moment. 

Taekwoon is curled up in the corner, eyes twinkling, and well, hand still wrapped around his wrist. “They won’t find us here,” he says, breaking into a small smile. 

Sanghyuk nods absentmindedly at his words. It’s dark and all, but Taekwoon’s silk-like shirt reflects dull shreds of light in bluish hue, like moonlight. And the specks in his eyes are like stars, the longer he looks into them, the more they seem to glimmer. 

“And…” Taekwoon starts, voice soft, “I want you to touch me.” He caresses Sanghyuk’s forearm gently, the tips of his fingers brushing past his skin in slight wisps. “I know you’ve been staring from the very start,” the elder adds, “From the changing room sofas.”

_He’s right_. Sanghyuk did stare, to the point where he’s starting to be ashamed of himself for being so… _shameless_. But he couldn’t lift his eyes from Taekwoon’s form, no matter how hard he tried to. The way these clothes hugged his body, and the sultriness he carried makes him utterly lethal. 

Taekwoon’s eyes settle on his stunned features and they crinkle in laughter, “I caught ya.” He pulls Sanghyuk’s hand closer, until his palms are rested against his chest, “Now, touch me.” 

_It’s a command_. 

His hands follow the curves of Taekwoon’s torso, rising and falling as the latter inhales softly, and exhales with equal gentleness. The satin fabric clings snuggly to his skin, it smoothens out under Sanghyuk’s grip, as he runs a hand down Taekwoon’s side slowly. He stops once he reaches his hips, hands rested on the protruding parts of his pelvis. 

“Taekwoon-hyung,” he whispers. He’s dangerously close to Taekwoon’s face— their breaths mingle, steamy and hot. He can see the lips displayed in front of him, half-parted and glossy. “I’ll— I’ll suck you off.” He gets on his knees and begins fumbling with the zipper on Taekwoon’s trousers. There is no belt, surprisingly, though chain-like accessories hang off the sides, jingling whenever Sanghyuk brushes past them with the sleeves of his shirt. 

He knows Taekwoon is getting impatient while he’s leisurely undressing him, fingers reaching for the elastic band in his boxers. Usually he’d have to unclip the garter straps that holds the shirt in place, but this time— Taekwoon doesn’t have any of those ‘belts’ wrapped around the base of his thighs. 

_Sanghyuk is… a little disappointed_? 

“I didn’t want to wear any today,” says Taekwoon, breathily, “I wanted to… tease you.” His hands nudge at the back of Sanghyuk’s head, as if urging him to _just get at it already_. 

Taekwoon is _nicely_ sized, Sanghyuk marvels at the length in front of him with downcast eyes. If he had to choose— Taekwoon is probably his favourite out of everyone,  with the exception of Hakyeon . 

With that said, he licks a stripe up the underside before closing his lips around the tip, letting out a contented hum when he sees the soloist clamp a hand over his mouth and quietly whimpers. He loves it when Taekwoon gets embarrassed, like this, it makes him feel proud, in a kind of bratty way, _especially_ when the tips of his ears grow red. He lets it reach a little deeper into his throat before looking back up at the elder, making sure his eyes are as innocent as those of a puppy’s. 

“Hyung,” he says, cutely, “You’re performing for me, right?” 

Taekwoon gives a silent moan, eyes flitting left and right while he pieces up a reply. It’s a simple question, really, a matter of answering yes or no. He swallows lightly, “I— yes, fuck, Hyuk—” He reaches to cover his face once more, cheeks flushed, ears red. 

Sanghyuk obediently widens his mouth and takes Taekwoon whole. He wants to be choked in this fashion, to have his breaths be taken away by Taekwoon’s member— these submissive thoughts only surface once or twice in his head while he puts his tongue to use, giving Taekwoon the care he deserved for working so hard.

Then the elder gives a tiny jolt, his lips part for a whine to sound. It’s muffled, but strained at the same time. His Adam’s apple bobs as he holds back one whimper after the other, his thighs quivering while his shoulders shake. 

Sanghyuk watches every movement he makes, almost bewitched. 

_This is the Jung Taekwoon he was once oh so afraid of_. 

A hint of musk bubbles up Sanghyuk’s senses, and fills his mouth with the same flavour— _it’s Taekwoon_. His eyes narrow in contentedness when he pulls away, only to press his cheek against the heat. It’s messy, and it’s ending up smeared on his face, leaving behind nothing but streaks of translucent white. 

“Hyung, you missed me, didn’t you?” 

Taekwoon looks bewildered for a second, before fanning himself in a desperate attempt to get rid of the blush, “…ah, I did.” 

“You came a lot this time.”

Sanghyuk watches the elder turn beet red once more, there’s a certain satisfaction involved in this—to see Taekwoon all abashed, and confused. He leans in to steal a kiss, but icy palms plaster themselves onto his lips instead.

“Don’t,” says Taekwoon, there is a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, “Not until I come back.” 

“From performing?! Hyung, you can’t possibly be this cruel to me—” All Sanghyuk wanted was a kiss, instead, he gets tissue paper smushed onto his face. By the time he’s done cleaning off the stickiness, Taekwoon’s already redressed, looking as fresh as he did half an hour ago. Except for the mysterious hints of pink that dusted his cheeks.

_Sanghyuk feels a little betrayed._

“Wait for me,” Taekwoon says, and disappears through the sliding doors.

 

**Author's Note:**

> can you believe i had to google the difference between 'mature' and 'explicit' for this, and i realised i labelled everything wrong from the beginning... this is so sad 
> 
> also touch and sketch is the bop of the year? im about to sell my soul—


End file.
